


Everything through skateboarding

by ghostwriting



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Requited Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29918997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriting/pseuds/ghostwriting
Summary: Skaters are really stupid, and Kojiro thinks that if this were a competition, both he and Kaoru would clinch top spots for it.Since the beginning, they’ve remained constants in this dizzying, exhilarating world of skateboarding where the reward isn’t money or praise by society, and Kojiro likes to think that the reward, for him, has always been him – Kaoru, skating by his side.(Part C of Episode 9 was not enough for me, so I gave them a little more.)
Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom
Comments: 18
Kudos: 191





	Everything through skateboarding

**Author's Note:**

> Commencing rapid JoeCherry brainrot with a post-Episode 9 fic.

Skaters are really stupid, and Kojiro thinks that if this were a competition, both he and Kaoru would clinch top spots for it.

Perhaps he’s even more of an idiot than Kaoru is. But as he tells Langa, that’s what skating has always been for them – making friends, fights, making up… You end up doing everything through skateboarding.

As he slips into the space next to Kaoru by the counter, filling both their glasses with the Lafitte in his hand, he wonders if Kaoru dreams when he’s asleep, and if he’s dreaming right now. He knows Kaoru struggles to get any form of decent sleep even on a good day, and with the way that things have recently shattered in a million places – in more ways than one – Kojiro is relieved to know that he seems to be sleeping peacefully, in his restaurant of all places.

Despite everything that has happened, they have fun together. Even through all the stupidity that has marked a large part of their youth and well into adulthood, to everything that has happened with Adam, through every slip and bad injury, Kojiro clinks their glasses together, toasting the fact that they aren’t alone.

Since the beginning, they’ve remained constants in this dizzying, exhilarating world of skateboarding where the reward isn’t money or praise by society, and Kojiro likes to think that the reward, for him, has always been him – Kaoru, skating by his side.

They’ve done everything through skateboarding. _Even falling in love_ , Kojiro thinks as he brushes Kaoru’s hair away from his face, away from the counter and over his shoulders instead, so it reminds him less of the way it had spilled across the “S” track after being hit in the face with Adam’s skateboard, and more of the way it flows when Kaoru skates, a brilliant flash of pink that dances with the wind.

He remembers thinking – just as he finishes both his and Kaoru’s glasses of white wine, and sets Kaoru’s spectacles aside – that he ought to bring him back to the hospital, or put him in a better position so that he won’t wake up with an even worse ache in his neck, but none of that happens because the next thing he experiences is a loud thwack and a stinging sensation blooming in the centre of his forehead as he’s jolted awake.

“Oww!”

Kojiro sits up with a start, rubbing the space between his brows, and he sees Kaoru watching him with a decidedly annoyed expression.

“Did you just flick my forehead?” Kojiro asks, glancing at the offending fingers hovering dangerously close to his face. He doesn’t sound as peeved as he ought to be given the current circumstance because when he looks at Kaoru’s hand, Kojiro swears he has a memory of his fingers threading through his hair.

_A dream?_

“You drank my wine,” Kaoru says, jabbing at the empty glass in front of him.

“You were sleeping!”

“With the way you’ve been snoring?” Kaoru scoffs. “Yeah, I’d need earplugs to sleep through that,” he adds before making an attempt to manoeuvre the AI wheelchair away from the counter as he tries to get to his feet.

Kojiro raises his eyebrows, watching as the wheelchair gets stuck mid-turn, and Kaoru bumps into the corner of the counter.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he says, observing as Kaoru rises on his good leg and tries gracelessly to free himself by hopping out of the space he’s trapped himself in. “You should save those moves for the next time you’re on the “S” course.”

Kaoru turns back to shoot him a glare.

“Well, I need to get to the bathroom somehow, don’t I?”

Kojiro chuckles, stretching as he stands to give Kaoru a hand. Injured or not, he’s every bit the firecracker he’s always been.

“All you had to do was _ask_ , Kaoru.”

Kaoru ignores him, taking an unsteady step forward.

“Also, why did you take my glasses? I need them to – ”

The rest of his sentence gets lost when a wobbly misplaced step leads to his knee giving way, and Kaoru tips backwards, losing his balance with little more than a sharp intake of breath.

Kojiro immediately lunges forward, almost losing balance himself as he catches Kaoru by the waist, a hand reaching to support the back of his sprained neck, taking special care not to bump into his broken arm.

He feels the wind rush out of his chest at the close shave, the sensation familiar – like all the times he’s lost balance on his own skateboard and he feels like he’s free falling for one terrifying second – as is the wide-eyed look that Kaoru gives him when their bodies press close.

Yes, he’s seen this look before, just not from this angle. He’s seen this from the side lines, in shades of pink and blue, when gold met red, and Kojiro wonders now what this combination of pink and green and gold and red hues meeting might look like to someone else.

Without his glasses, Kojiro catches a flash of someone from seven years ago, young and reckless, breathless with laughter, and he feels like Kojiro from seven years ago, watching Kaoru skate, chasing him on his board, nailing one new move after another together with him.

But Kojiro knows that those years are far behind them, seven years later, and he thinks about how nothing – but also everything – has changed.

They are still here, together, Kojiro and Kaoru against the world.

For a brief moment – with Kaoru this close to him – Kojiro almost gives in to the very real urge to seal this thought with a kiss, to cross a line he doesn’t think he should. But it passes just as quickly as the image of their teenage selves, lost to time.

“Careful,” Kojiro finally says, straightening up and releasing his hold on Kaoru. “Wouldn’t want any more fractures on that pretty face of yours.”

He gets a shove to the chest in return. “Shut up. You’re being dramatic.”

“You’re not still drunk, are you?” Kojiro teases, reaching over to adjust the collar of Kaoru’s hospital shirt, watching as a hint of red flushes across his pale skin. This may not be Kaoru’s first choice in terms of fashion on any day of the week, but Kojiro knows that he’d rather die than look dishevelled.

Kaoru smacks his hand. “I’d need much more than that to get anywhere near drunk and you know it.”

“Okay, okay,” he says, amused as he raises his hands in surrender, stepping back to let Kaoru make his way to the bathroom, turning to clear the empty wine bottle and glasses from the counter instead.

Kojiro has long learnt that there’s no stopping Kaoru once he sets his mind to something, whether it’s pursuing a beef with Adam, escaping a hospital on an AI wheelchair, hopping to the toilet with a broken leg, or anything else for that matter.

He’ll just be there to catch him if he falls. Because that’s what friends are for.

He just makes sure to keep an eye on Kaoru, in case he trips again. But Kaoru doesn’t move, standing perfectly still in the spot where Kojiro left him.

“Kaoru?” he asks, watching as Kaoru purses his lips, eyes trained at the ground by Kojiro’s feet, like he’s thinking deeply about something.

“Ah,” Kojiro suddenly says, fishing Kaoru’s glasses from his pocket, moving to hand it to him. “Here. You need these, don’t you?”

Kaoru raises his eyes as he goes to take his glasses from him, and the look he gives him stuns him for a second.

Kojiro blinks, not sure where this look is coming from. There’s a warmth in Kaoru’s challenging golden eyes, all alluring and soft at the edges, and Kojiro thinks it’s ridiculous how he can still look like this with bandages all over.

Kaoru lifts the spectacles from Kojiro’s hand and sets it aside on the counter.

“You said that aggressiveness is your principle in both skating and seduction.”

“I did,” Kojiro acknowledges with a raise of his brows. “You don’t agree?”

There’s a heaviness in the air as Kaoru studies him, picking every bit of him apart with his eyes.

“… I think you should do it,” Kaoru says after a pause. There’s a gravity to his tone, and Kojiro frowns, searching for a point of reference.

“Do what?”

“What you wanted to do a second ago,” Kaoru says, taking an uneven step towards him, and they are chest to chest again. “When I was right here.”

Kojiro leans back slightly, a hand resting on the counter for balance.

Looking at Kaoru’s face, he knows exactly what he’s referring to and he’s not surprised that he’s picked up on it. But he also wants to tell Kaoru that aggressiveness doesn’t apply between them, not like this, because seducing Kaoru has never been Kojiro’s intention.

“Are you sure?” he asks instead, and Kaoru – for once – doesn’t roll his eyes, or call him a gorilla. He looks straight at him, daring him to search for the answer he seeks in his eyes.

“Yes.”

It takes Kojiro a little longer than he usually does when it comes to making a split-second, course-altering decision on the “S” track, but when he does eventually decide, Kojiro dives head first and commits to it. He pulls Kaoru close by the waist – again, careful to not jostle any part of his bruised body unnecessarily – and lifts him before setting him on the counter.

“Okay,” he says as he draws back from Kaoru, leaning against the counter and resting his hands on either side of him. “But you’re sitting because you shouldn’t be standing for this long,” he adds.

And then there it is, the eye roll.

“I’m not _fragile_.”

Kojiro chuckles, a low sound at the back of his throat as he leans in, brushing Kaoru’s hair aside, smoothing his thumb gently over his cheek.

“I know,” he murmurs. “You’re anything but fragile.”

Time slows as Kojiro notices that Kaoru keeps his eyes steady on his until the very end, so there’s no doubt that it’s _Kojiro_ he’s looking at – that it’s _him_ he’s kissing – and it’s only when their lips touch does Kaoru let his eyes drift shut, checking the angle so that their lips slot easily together when he parts them before he skims his fingers over the long line of Kojiro’s neck, moving his lips against his in a way that Kojiro understands exists just for him.

When Kojiro opens his eyes in surprise, he catches Kaoru watching him, half-lidded golden eyes shimmering as his lips curve into the shape of a smile against his own. Kaoru lifts an eyebrow just before he closes his eyes again, sliding his tongue along his bottom lip.

Kojiro tastes the wine on his tongue, and when Kaoru lifts a hand to card his fingers through his hair, Kojiro realises that the sensation is definitely familiar, certain now that Kaoru had been watching him sleep earlier, maybe even running his fingers through his hair in a touch not unlike that of his own in Kaoru’s hair when he’d been asleep.

“You’re going easy on me,” Kaoru breathes as he draws back for air, but Kojiro leans forward, a hand steadying the back of Kaoru’s neck as he presses close and chases his lips.

He’s relentless in delivering every bit of pent-up affection over all those years, expressed in the way he’s always wanted to but never gave the time of day. He kisses Kaoru in a way reserved just for him, and it eventually draws a helpless, involuntary whimper, a breathy sound that lights the part of Kojiro that wants to lift Kaoru in his arms and take him to his bedroom.

“‘m not going easy on you,” Kojiro whispers, finally tilting his face to gently press kisses along his jaw and neck. Kaoru’s breathing shivers. “Your broken arm’s just in the way.”

“Mm,” Kaoru murmurs, eyes focusing and then refocusing on him. “That’s too bad.”

“No, it really isn’t,” Kojiro corrects him, gripping him carefully by the hips before sliding him forward, pleased when Kaoru spreads his legs a little wider so that Kojiro stands comfortably between them. “Just means there’ll be a next time.”

“Wow,” Kaoru says sarcastically, “lucky you,” but there’s no bite to it, and there’s certainly something far softer in the way he’s looking at Kojiro, whether he knows it or not. So, Kojiro takes his cheek in his hand and presses a lingering kiss to his lips, breathing in the scent of Kaoru, allowing the memory of the way he kisses him back to blend with every other memory he’s had with him over the years.

Making friends, fights, making up… You end up doing everything through skateboarding, and it’s skateboarding that has led Kojiro to Sakurayashiki Kaoru and Kaoru to Nanjo Kojiro. And one thing remains sure, certain, even in the mess of shattered history and the path that might unfold ahead of them – it’s the simple truth that they are not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I love them :')
> 
> ([my twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostwritingari))


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